


Ships in the Night

by lakeghost



Series: Word of the Fates [2]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bloodletting, Boats and Ships, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Eros and Psyche (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Prophecy, Sickfic, Slow Burn, Whump, fangst, vampirism based angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2020-11-23 04:10:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakeghost/pseuds/lakeghost
Summary: Eros/Psyche AU Part IIFollowing the events ofCandle in the Dark, the prophecy may have been fulfilled, but there are still some consequences to face.





	1. On the Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't get enough of this weird little universe, so here we are again.

The sky was leaching the very last of the color from the sun when the ship’s mainmast made its appearance. Trevor didn’t see it at first - only because he had been transfixed watching the sunset play through Adrian’s hair. The head bearing said hair cocked sharply to the side.

“Do you see that?”

Trevor rolled his eyes. They’d played this game before when idle chatter ran out. Adrian would ask Trevor to identify some small detail off in the distance, or make a bet on whether that grey smudge was a person or a shrub, and inevitably get the smug satisfaction of watching Trevor squint and bullshit his way through a response.

“You could at least have the dignity to boast directly, you know.” Trevor turned toward the expanse of ocean before them. From the westernmost spire where they were currently lounging, the vista filled up a person’s entire line of sight, and the ground where the castle was planted became a thin green line below.

“I have perfectly fine _human _sight - I don’t need any weird glass in front of my eyes to see - “ He stopped short when his sightline landed on the dull silhouette of a ship - well, it was probably a ship. “What the hell is that?”

He glanced over at Adrian, who was still leaning casually against the edge of the battlement. “Well, I think it’s reasonable to assume that it’s some kind of water-craft, don’t you?” He smiled, all teeth.

“Dick.”

Adrian frowned slightly. “Odd, it’s not the time of year for trade ships. I suppose it could be a pirated vessel, but there isn’t a proper pier for miles.” Trevor could tell that beneath his nonchalance the gears of his mind were whirring. “It seems to be slowing down.”

“I’m in town tomorrow, I’ll see if anyone knows anything.” At the mention of Trevor’s new job, Adrian jumped to change the subject.

“What’s terrorizing the townsfolk now?”

“Some kind of small vermin, it would appear. It beats sitting on my ass all day, but hell, I didn’t sign up for this.” Trevor leaned forward to rest his forearms on the short wall.

“And was is ‘this’, precisely?” Adrian moved to stand beside the other man.

“Muscle for hire, pest control, fated tragedy, I don’t know. It’s not like I had any kind of stability before, but at least that was something I could count on. The fact some Speaker legend seems to have predicted a couple significant life events for me just makes me uneasy.”

Adrian didn’t reply. Trevor turned to face him, but his expression was unreadable.

In the setting sun, it was impossible to deny the uncanny quality of his companion’s presence. The low light cast odd shadows over his features, warping what was otherwise familiar. Trevor had known who (and what) Adrian was for months now, but it was in these fleeting moments when he questioned if he really knew his partner. Sure, they’d slept together, shared emotional insecurities, but sometimes it still felt like they were just strangers thrown together by the Fates. “I think I’m waiting for the next leaf to fall.”

The light had shifted as the sun sank completely out of view. Against the indigo of the sky, the strange ship was nearly invisible.

***

Trevor threw his shoulder into the heavy door to the kitchen, exhausted and ready to drop the rabbits he’d caught on any surface that wasn’t the floor. He hoped Mina was around - she could skin game faster than anything and it was truly a joy to watch. The man spilled into the room in a clamor of weapons and bags and scanned for the cook, his eyes instead landing on the figure of Adrian knelt halfway behind a table.

“Christ, you would not _believe_ the weird shit some folks have in their cellars. On a related note, I don’t think they’ve been having issues with rats, but ongoing water damage has done a serious number,” Trevor spoke as he removed layers and dropped items on his path from the door. He reached the master of the castle, expecting a lecture about making a mess, or at the very least a scolding about snooping through other peoples’ business; it wasn’t quite the show he had hoped for, but it would do. He got no such reaction, just an eerie silence.

The hunter sharpened up immediately and warily adjusted his position to see why. It didn’t exactly answer his question to see Adrian frantically sorting scattered rice into tiny piles, muttering under his breath.

“Hey,” he pressed, a bit sharper than strictly necessary.

Adrian seemed to become aware of another person in the room at that and hesitated, then looked up at Trevor as he leaned back onto his heels.

He blinked up at the other man, his eyes wide with a frenzied sort of energy Trevor had never seen before. The hunter raised his eyebrows and gestured at the situation, doing his best to be tactful.

“What time is it?” His voice sounded weak, dry.

“Around sunset.” Trevor was still trying to parse the situation. He took in the small mountain of rice and lentils, tidily sorted alongside tallymarks etched into the flagstones of the floor. “What’s going on here?”

“I knocked over some bins, I wasn’t paying attention. I was just cleaning up when you walked in.” He presented a tight-lipped smile and turned his head down as he began to sweep the grains into a single pile. Trevor didn’t miss the stone dust caught under his still-sharp nails, or the absence of a broom.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Adrian said nothing and began shoving rice into one of the small barrels near his feet.

Trevor had an inkling, but was still unsure of where they stood on both “budding relationship” and “reformed hunter and his vampire benefactor” grounds. There was dangerous territory everywhere. In true Belmont fashion, he started to make a decision before his brain caught up with whether it was a good one.

“Is this is a vampire thing?” _Fuck, that sounded stupid._

Adrian had finished his tidying and glared up with murderous intent. The hunter accepted his fate and shuffled down to sit on the floor opposite Adrian. He wanted to reassure him or take his hand but he nothing seemed like the right thing to do. “Okay, that sounded bad. I just - I don’t want you to feel like, shit, like you can’t talk about certain stuff.” _Like a damn poet_.

The ire had left the other man’s gaze. “Not a vampire”

“Is this really the hill you want to die on? You’re close enough. Get you half-drunk and you can barely talk around those teeth.” 

Despite the tension of the moment, Trevor had to actively stop himself from smiling at the thought. He’d discovered this one evening after persuading Adrian through the better part of a bottle of mead. As the familiar soft fuzz settled around Trevor’s mind, Adrian seemed as tightlaced as ever - he didn’t even slouch, the bastard. Trevor was beginning to think it wasn’t possible for his companion to actually become intoxicated, and was about to begin a new line of complaints when Adrian announced he was leaving to go to rest in the library, and his newly uncoordinated tongue tripped over his teeth.

Trevor covered his mouth to hide his amusement, Adrian his face. He’d had plenty of practice articulating speech through fangs sober, obviously, but it seemed there was a bit of a learning curve once alcohol was involved.

At the time, Trevor was pleased that what would have provoked a reaction of genuine revulsion only weeks earlier was eliciting merely manageable embarrassment.

Now, though, Adrian had a half hearted smile on his otherwise stoic face. He seemed resigned, or maybe just tired. Trevor sighed. “Look, I feel like whatever this is is probably my fault. I brought my whole prophecy shit into your castle, went and got myself seduced.”

Adrian smirked, the distraction tactic seemed to be working. “I beg your pardon? I was the one seduced here. A mysterious stranger appears on my doorstep all alone in the cold night in the pouring rain, clothing in tatters? I had no choice but to succumb to your wiles.”

“Fine, but I allowed myself to by charmed by my _dhampir_ host, even if he’s kind of an asshole.” Trevor stood up stiffly and offered his hand to Adrian. “Come on”

Adrian refused his assistance and moved to his feet in a single lithe movement, just to spite him. He started toward the great hall and tossed his words over his shoulder in a classic display of false composition. “We should probably talk.”

***

“I’d say that’s ridiculous, but so is the whole running water thing. We could all just build our towns between rivers and solve a lot of problems. Okay, not “we” we, but you know what I mean.” 

Adrian rolled his eyes from where he was perched on the velvet chaise. “I’ll admit I was surprised myself. It’s never been so severe I couldn’t ignore it.”

“But you were aware?”

“Of course. I’ll never forget when my mother knocked over a jar of pins while my father was in the room. I realize you never met in person - ”

_Probably for the best_, thought Trevor.

“ - but he had such presence, especially before … you know.” Adrian quickly shook his head. “The point is, that aura of power just left all at once and he started counting these tiny pins. My mother was worried, after she tried to get his attention he, well, he hissed at her, and I remember her ushering me out of room. I know they argued some, but I didn’t catch much. They seemed to resolve it quickly. As I met other vampires, I learned more. Mostly that unless it’s about what is and isn’t lethal, no one writes anything down.” He sighed. “I suppose of all the foibles, I could be worse off.”

“I mean, you do get to have sunlight, that seems like a pretty big win to me.”

Adrian smiled, but couldn’t muster a laugh. The heavy curtains dripping off the walls made the room feel smaller than it was; Trevor thought it felt suffocating. “But why now? Why was it worse this time?”

Adrian didn’t respond, but nervously shifted his weight. He looked at the far wall, the carpet, anything but Trevor’s face until he lowered his eyes and replied, “Not enough blood.” He was stock-still, as though waiting to be smote by Trevor’s hand.

“Huh?”

Adrian was staring at him as though he’d grown a second head.

“Yes, obviously, I get what you’re saying, I’m just, well, I’m not sure - we’ve never actually had a conversation about your … needs.”

“Fucking Christ,” Adrian put his hand to his face, clearly mortified at Trevor’s fumbling through this conversation.

“Look, I do want to help, but I honestly do not think I can have this discussion with my...you without sounding like a either an imbecile or a person whose entire youth was spent learning how to kill things that drink blood.” Trevor got up and settle on the lounge next to Adrian. He rested his hand on the blonde man’s thigh, trying to communicate how earnestly he mean his sentiment. “I’m on your side.”

Adrian seemed reassured for the moment, and went on. “Up until a few months ago, I’d been subsisting off the remaining supply in the castle. It’s preserved almost indefinitely, and though I might not agree with how it was obtained, it would be idiotic to waste it.”

Trevor nodded and kept his face neutral. _This place _is _massive, and if anywhere is going to have a goddamn blood cellar, this would be it._

“I haven’t had much reason to maintain a high level of supernatural power recently, and besides, I don’t _need_ to consume blood. It didn’t make sense to seek out a new source when everything else was going so well.”

He would never admit it, but knowing Adrian had such faith in their ongoing relationship scared him, wonderful as it was.

“We can figure something out.”

Adrian shot him another look. “Sure.”

“If it means I need to look the other way while you tear through a village, then so be it, honestly.” Adrian groaned. _Fuck, definitely took the wrong angle with that one._

“Not that I think - I just - I want you to be happy and healthy, as much as I can.” The hunter fought every impulse to backtrack and minimize his emotional outpouring. It was physically uncomfortable, but he managed. “Anyway, you saved my sorry ass, so I’m pretty sure I owe you a favor.”

Adrian smiled, then paused a moment. “All that impulse and drive that’s so integral to vampires feels separate from who I am. I used to be able to just wall it off and ignore it. Sure, most infants don’t eat bread soaked in cattle-blood, but I wasn’t like the monsters in my father’s court. I’m still not. I don’t need confirmation that I’m a good person. It’s that these two parts of my mind refuse to make peace.”

Trever (admirably) hid his queasy reaction to the thought of gore-dripping bread, but smiled to himself imagining the omnipotent Lord Dracula impatiently trying to feed a toddler. Neither thought seemed appropriate to share at the moment. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“I don’t think there’s anything _to_ say.” He let his face fall into his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. His pale hair slid forward over paler fingers, the whole image reminiscent of a mess of cobwebs gathered in a corner. He lifted his head and leaned back into the cushion.

“It got harder after my mother died. The walls between me and … well, the rest of me, I suppose, got thinner. I wasn’t eating well, in either sense. The blessings my human side offered seemed to wane, and the pitfalls of vampirism started cropping up like a rash.”

Trevor could only continue to nod, even though if felt insufficient. As much as he could, he sympathized. Perhaps not so much in terms of biology, and not so eloquently, but with the degree to which your mind and circumstance could team up to screw you over.

“How about this?” Trevor held the pause a moment. “We don’t have long before that ship runs aground.”

Adrian perked up, suddenly very present. “I wish I had better news, and I wish I had a better time to say this, but that ship out there is still an unknown. As far as anyone knows, it’s a ghost ship, but who knows what it’s carrying.”

“You are the expert in seeking out and seducing reclusive ghosts.”

“Shut up,” Trevor chuckled, giving Adrian a light shove.

He debated saying anything at all. Maybe it _was_ just a dead ship - eerie, sure, but no real threat. But through his conversations in the village today he had gleaned some worrying information. This was the same ship that had brushed past several other villages along the coast in the past months, villages that saw its crew - what remained of them. Accounts varied, but they all agreed that the deck appeared flooded, teeming with writhing brown fur. No one knew where it came from originally, or how long it had been at sea, but it was long enough the bones of the crew were picked clean and the rats had turned on each other. It was dubious enough to dismiss as rumor, but with enough credit to gnaw at him.

The tides had played to the favor of those on land until now, but Trevor knew that this particular outcropping was treacherous, and even skilled captains sometimes fell prey to the pull of the currents. And rats can swim.

Trevor decided that it could wait until morning, he had more pressing issues at the moment. He leaned toward Adrian, carefully moving his hand to lace through his long hair as the other slid from his thigh to his hip.

Adrian closed the distance between them, pressing their mouths together as he pushed forward to lay over the Belmont, pinning him lightly to the furniture. As they melted into each other and the night grew darker, a cool wind moved in from the ocean.

Miles from the shore, the _Venus_ rocked slowly with the waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love speculating on the specifics of the vampire rules beyond canon, and compulsive arithromania is my absolute fav - it alludes so nicely to the original myth, I just had to find a way to include it


	2. Tides Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> featuring peak Trevor "calls you bro and babe in the same sentence" Belmont

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while! Real life caught up with me and scattered my plot threads to the wind - hopefully you can still accept this chapter, overdue as it is  
As always, thank you for the lovely kudos and comments!

It was during storms like this that Trevor truly appreciated the comfort his living arrangements provided. Despite the downpour pounding against the castle walls, the interior chamber where he now found himself was crackling with warmth. The tapestries kept the drafts at bay and muffled the rain, changing the angry snaps of thunder to a discontented grumble.

Trevor left the village before midday when the clouds began to roll in, but it was impenetrably dark by the time he reached the castle doors. Andrei ushered him in through the stables, visibly appalled at the state of both Trevor and his mount. He silently untacked the horse while Trevor set about removing his own drenched layers.

Adrian kept to the upper rooms during the day, conducting research (or so he claimed) and reading in the study, so Trevor was shocked when he found him pacing the main hall. One arm was wrapped around his waist as he chewed the cuticle around his other thumbnail, and when he noticed his human dripping icy water onto the carpet, he launched into a guilt-tripping sermon that would put most bishops to shame.

I wasn’t until minutes ago that Adrian had finally relaxed enough to sleep. Once the hunter was in dry clothing and a fire lit in their bedchamber, the man took to pacing along the space behind the chair where Trevor was cleaning his blades. He would pause, as though to say something, then resume his nervous walking until the hunter threatened to walk back out into the rain unless he sat down. A further uneasy hour passed while Adrian sat pretending to read, sneaking tense glances at the man when he thought he couldn’t see.

Trevor leaned back in his chair and gently set aside his knife and whetstone, careful not to wake the vampire slumped over in the chair beside him. His body seemed drawn to the warmth of the fire like a cat. Trevor wished that seeing his companion relaxed would bring him some peace, but without the tension his face carried while awake, he looked shockingly fragile. Perhaps it was the odd firelight that gave his skin its waxy cast, pushed his pallor from uncanny to sickly, but it was no trick of the light how his collarbones stood out from his chest, how his cheekbones threatened to push through skin.

Heavy thunder rattled the windows and the rain took up with a renewed fervor. Trevor leaned forward as he saw Adrian stir, his brow furrow and jaw clench.

Before he could talk himself into (or out of) waking the other man, a heavy thud came from the main entrance, and Adrian jolted awake, instantly alert.

“Easy there, big guy,” said Trevor as he leaned back, hands in the air. He’d nearly lost a hand last time he’d made an attempt to comfort his befanged bedmate after a nightmare.

“Someone’s at the door.” He glared as he stood and briskly moved to put on a loose surcoat of fine silk, one of the many items of clothing in piles scattered around the chamber. “Get dressed, you look indecent.”

Trevor glanced down at his perfectly appropriate trousers and shirt. He looked back to see Adrian pull the folds of his robe back over the hilt of the sword at his hip. “Pardon?”

Adrian huffed. “You’re practically falling out of that shirt. If the mob at our doors does manage to kill us, they should at least have to work to see your naked body.” He paced over and began tightening the laces at Trevor’s collar, who could see now the panic in his eyes, despite his light tone.

Trevor pushed his hands away as he stood. The knocking sounded again, louder and quicker this time. He walked toward the door and swiped a heavy tunic of his own from one of the piles. “Remind me again why you know this is a mob of angry villagers?”

Adrian followed him as he exited the room, extinguishing the fire and candles with a wave of his hand. “It’s well into the night, and these are hardly ideal travel conditions. If someone is here, I doubt it’s for a good reason.”

Trevor didn’t have an immediate retort for that, so he grumbled something about being paranoid as they rushed through the labyrinth of hallways towards the sweeping atrium stairs.

Mina met them at the foot of the stairs, speaking to Trevor but sneaking glances at Adrian, who stayed a few steps behind, nodding in concurrence. To make a short story shorter, there were no torches and pitchforks, but a lone woman with urgent news. The ship was caught in the mouth of the cove, and was set to be driftwood and bones before the night was through.

***

Their conversation with the lighthouse keeper was brief. She had been keeping an eye on the ship for the past several days, but couldn’t determine whether is was captained or merely adrift. The currents were strong in the area, the same reason she was looking out tonight during the storm, curious to track its movement.

She was shivering under the blanket Amalia had brought her as she explained. The lighthouse wasn’t far, but it was an hour’s hard ride, and it had clearly taken a toll. Trevor admired her commitment to protecting the unknown crew, even the stubbornly thickheaded plan to seek help from the haunted castle next door in the middle of a momentous storm.

The lighthouse keeper again looked warily at the figure behind Trevor, silently thankful the broad-shouldered man was between her and the pale wraith at his shoulder. “I flashed the light several times to signal the town. Who knows if anyone could even have seen it tonight, I thought that it would be faster to come here.” She trailed off, nervously taking in the looming windows and blood red carpets.

Trevor assured her that she had made the right decision, as though he had any idea what was going on. He doubted anyone on board would survive the vessel running aground in these conditions, if there was anyone to begin with. But he pulled on his boots regardless, conferring momentarily with Adrian to establish a plan of attack.

Adrian tore through the laboratory, assembling what emergency supplies he could while Trevor relayed to the staff that Mina was to stay at the castle in case anyone else came looking for help. Amalia would ride with the lighthouse keeper, and the rest of them would follow. Between the five of them, they had a fair chance at getting any survivors to safety.

***

Trevor shouldn’t have worried.

Beyond the sickle-shaped river that ran along the back of the inlet, the lighthouse beam hung like a solemn spectre in the air, its illumination scattered through the dense rain.

Trevor struggled to put together what he was looking at. The wreckage of the ship hulked over the scene, the splintered keel like a gruesome pike through its heart. Under the wooden bones, a cesspool of brackish water and dark blood boiled with the teeth and fur of innumerable rats. Even through the rain and distance, Trevor could hear their screeching and chittering, bloodthirsty locusts desperate for hot flesh.

The surge of matted fur parted around the remains of several bodies, slick with gore and stormwater. It appeared the village had sent out a rescue party, their altruism rejected by the ship’s passengers. Trevor scanned the small cape, letting his eyes slide across the ragged lumps that had been breathing minutes ago. A pair of figures were dragging themselves toward the lighthouse, and another sought higher ground across the river, moving toward the hunter and his compatriots.

“Andrei!” His voice was strained at this volume, already raw. “You need to get to the village and warn them what’s headed their way.” Even in the chaos, it was clear to see that the edges of the swarm farthest from shore had begun to feather out and move inland. Andrei was desperately trying to keep his mount from bolting, and his eyes were as frantic and searching as the horse. “You’re the better rider, you’ll get there faster.”

Andrei accepted the instruction and split from the group, twisting the reins in his hands and setting off at breakneck speed down the path of the ridge.

The chittering was deafening now, a keening wail as the horde realized there was little left to consume. 

Amalia had noticed the pair crawling toward the lighthouse, and her hand flew to her mouth. Her and the keeper both seemed distant, on the verge of shutting down completely. It was easy to forget that brutal reminders of human mortality weren’t everyone’s experience. “Amalia - shit, Ami, I’m sorry,” Trevor rasped. “You can head back to the castle, take the keeper with you, I think -”

“If we approach the tower from the south, we can stay clear of the rats and get those two inside.” The keeper spoke firmly, managing to disguise most of the waver in her voice. Amalia nodded, perhaps a little frantically. She turned to Trevor. “I have to try.”

Trevor nodded sharply and gestured for them to go, he didn’t have time to change anyone’s mind. The two of them bent low and took off dead ahead at as fast of a pace as they dared.

Trevor turned to Adrian, who already had his eyes locked on the townsperson who was limping toward the flooded stream. “They won’t make it across,” he growled.

Trevor frowned as he dismounted, shedding his outermost layers and drawing a short blade. “We don’t know that, and like the lady said, I have to try.” He moved to the steep slope that dropped straight to the water, eschewing the switchbacks in favor of time.

Adrian caught his arm in an icy grip before he could continue his descent. “This isn’t the time to be noble, _Belmont_.” 

He tried to jerk his arm back, but the other man’s grip was unrelenting. “It’s not noble, it’s my fucking job.”

Adrian bared his teeth on instinct, and Trevor took the opportunity to land a left hook on his jaw and break free, run-sliding down the slope before he caught a reaction. _If I don’t manage to make it out of this, at least I won’t have to face the discussion about that._ His regret drew to a whisper, however, and he focused on getting to the shore in one piece. The figure - it appeared to be a man - had slowed, and the cluster of rats that had trailed him this far was gaining on him. Trevor did his best to control his tumble toward the fast, wide water, but snuck a glance behind himself to catch Adrian matching his path (albeit more gracefully) toward the straggler.

The man below let out a jagged yelp when one of the vermin dug into his calf, followed by a deeper scream when the others’ teeth found purchase. At that, Trevor launched himself as far forward as he could and tucked in his limbs - if he broke another leg, Adrian might just kill him.

***

It didn’t take long to cull the swarm, but by the time Trevor was shaking the rat guts off his sword, the man had stopped moving and his breathing had become shallow.

Trevor knelt beside him to feel a racing pulse. It was clear that he’d lost a significant amount of blood - what remained of his left leg was sopping with red, and kept pooling on every surface, despite the sheets of rain. 

He had to get this man somewhere dry, get something better to stanch the bleeding than his hand and scraps of tunic. Trevor located the stone bridge, half-submerged and treacherously slick at this point, and began trudging back toward the horses, villager in tow.

***

Trevor dropped the man over his shoulders to the dirt once the weight became too much to bear. Good news: they’d made it back across the flooded stream in one piece (for the most part). Bad news: the horses were long gone, and the cold damp had sunk to Trevor’s bones. He took several deep breaths as he tried to patch together a plan.

Something slammed into the hunter with enough force to knock him to the ground. Trevor reeled for a moment, catching his breath and a mouthful of blonde hair in the process.

“Adrian? The hell?”

The dhampir didn’t say anything, just gripped Trevor’s shoulders more firmly as he pressed his cheek to his chest. He could feel Adrian’s claws digging through his shirt, desperately grasping, trying to test his tangibility.

“Adrian, look at me.” Trevor tried to push himself up to sitting as best he could with his arms pressed to his sides, awkwardly shuffling under the grip. He bent his elbows to bring his hands to Adrian’s waist, cueing him to pull back, and he could feel the man shaking as sobs moved through his body. “Hey, I need you to look at me, c’mon.” He pushed somewhat harder, but didn’t let go.

Finally the other man leaned back enough to let Trevor move to an upright position, never taking his eyes off him. The silty mud was almost warm compared to the vicious downpour, and Trevor couldn’t help but gasp slightly as the dirt rubbed into the myriad scratches and bites that littered his calves and forearms.

He didn’t miss the pained looked that crossed Adrian’s face. The rain had pasted his hair flat, pressed over the sharp turn of his jaw and shoulder. He must have removed his coat at some point, and now the pristine white of his shirt was blotchy with muck and half-shredded from the rocks along the shore. He looked like he’d just crawled out of a grave.

“I thought you were gone,” he whispered, almost inaudible in the storm.

Trevor leaned forward to take his hands, wrapping them in his own. He flashed a glance at the man he’d pulled back across the river, trying to assess whether that was the issue that took precedence here. He still wasn’t moving; if he wasn’t dead yet, he would be in minutes. Trevor decided that between helplessly watching a man die and trying to stop an imminent emotional breakdown, he would attempt the latter.

“I’m fine, look at me.” Trevor brought one hand up to move some of the hair out of his companion’s face and left it there to rest along his neck. He was again struck by how _cold_ he was. They needed to get inside, quickly. He kept his voice level as he went on, “But I need to dry off soon, and while you may be a bit more durable, it wouldn’t do you any harm.” He started to offer a lopsided smile when Adrian again fell into him, this time limp, defeated.

“I thought you were gone.” His voice cracked, and Trevor winced as he wrapped the man in his arms, doing what he could to console him, even if he didn’t understand the reaction. Sure, he might freeze to death in the next hour or two, but until now the only real danger had been the rats, and on the scale of dozens, they were no match for the skilled fighter. Adrian had seen that before he ran off toward the river, why was he so upset? 

_Fuck, he was stupid_. “River.”

He could feel a nod against his chest. “I didn’t think - I thought I would be able to follow you, but, but I …” Trevor’s chest ached, hearing Adrian at a loss for words. He tried to pull him deeper into the embrace, but he could feel the vampire’s frigid form sapping what little body heat Trevor had left. _If I pass out here, I’m dead_, he thought, void of malice. _Even if Adrian can manage, there’s nowhere he can drag my body on this side of the river in time to warm me up. _Logistics was a real dick.

While the gears spun wildly in Trevor’s head, he rubbed circles across Adrian’s back. He was still quiet, determined to suffer this in silence, the bastard, when he flatly stated, “You’re cold.” Then, more sharply, “You’re cold, fuck”

_Yeah, no shit._

Immediately Adrian stood, hauling Trevor up with him, whose head spun a little at the change in altitude. Trevor watched his eyes widen as the same calculation Trevor had done earlier occurred to him. He looked to Trevor, searching.

“I have a plan, but you’re not going to like it,” he muttered.

Despite it all, Adrian managed to roll his eyes. “If it keeps you alive, I think I’ll like it just fine, thank you.”

Trevor gestured his head toward the limp form several feet away. Adrian caught his meaning right away.

“Fuck you,” he deadpanned.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just die then because my idiot vampire lover was too stubborn to feed himself.” Even to himself, his voice sounded a bit strained. As the adrenaline left him, a warm, soft feeling was starting to crawl in, itchy and hot at the edges.

“We can get back to the castle, get you dry again - “ His eyes flicked around them, quickly realizing their horses had long since bolted, much smarter than their riders.

Trevor tried to put more weight onto his feet and failed, instead leaning harder onto Adrian. “The lighthouse is just a few minutes that way, “ he gestured with a leaden arm. “Well, a few minutes and some running water.” It felt a bit inflammatory, but frankly Trevor was getting desperate, and he couldn’t do much to help Adrian work through any of this if he was dead, could he? Desperate times and all that.

Adrian was quiet, and the storm was loud. Trevor could hear the blood moving around his head, burning hot, and he thought he might vomit. He felt Adrian stand a bit straighter beside him, then gently kneel, bringing Trevor to rest on the ground.

He paused for a moment, suspended over Trevor in such a way that he blocked all the rain from hitting him, casting a shadow of warm and dry; _ugh, starting to break with reality there, Belmont,_ he thought. _You haven’t even been stabbed. Really losing your edge_.

Adrian abruptly cut his internal rambling short when he pushed Trevor’s head to the side with a soft pressure along his jaw, leaving him just a hazy view of the lighthouse over rushing water.

“We can’t have you drowning in the rain now, can we?” Trevor could hear the barest hint of a smile on his voice. “I swear, the day I stop dragging your body out of rainstorms is the day romance dies.” He ran his thumb along his temple, and Trevor made an effort to scoff, but choked a bit on the water that had puddled around his nose.

Adrian got up and the rain returned full-force. The lightning had passed, and most of the rats had scurried off into the foliage, so the seconds were filled with a _shush-ush_ of the sea and storm that filled up all of the negative space. The lighthouse on his horizon seemed dimmer, more a suggestion than a true beacon. Trevor felt his thoughts get lazy and spiral out in front of him. _He was here with Adrian, wasn’t he? Did the rats get him, too? No, it was the rain, surely. All that rain just melting him away like sand, or ash…_

Trevor’s distress had faded to a low note of dull panic. He couldn’t move, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. When lithe arms like an iron cage scooped him up behind the knees and neck, he accepted that he had probably died, and this was Death dragging his ass back to the ferry. Charon sounded like a stingy motherfucker though, and Trevor was well aware his mortal form was dead broke. He groaned and curled tighter in on himself. “Undead asshole.”

A voice whispered close to his ear, warm and damp and thick with rust, “Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all, every time I describe rooms in the castle we get one step closer to the House Hunters: Wallachia fic my heart apparently wants to write


	3. Theriac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wrath of Venus has some unforeseen consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

Trevor awoke to the sound of hushed conversation and waves on a rocky coast. His body felt achy and sore in a way it never had before, and his mouth felt like it was full of sand. Someone must have noticed his stirring, because the whispering quickly cut off and cool hands were pressed to his head and neck.

“Trevor? How are you feeling?” Adrian was using his “business” voice, the same one he used when they hosted guests at the castle or met new vampires. It was also the voice he used when he was terrified.

Trevor mumbled and gestured towards his mouth. “Water.”

“Of course,” breathed Adrian as he got up from his knee and strode across the room to a pitcher near the hearth. The hunter pushed himself up to a sitting position, but was struck by a sudden dizziness that made the room spin. Adrian didn’t notice, but he caught the lighthouse keeper, standing a few feet away, wrinkle her eyebrows in concern.

Adrian returned and perched lightly on the bed, then handed him an earthen cup. Trevor drank his water quickly and assessed the room.

He was in, he assumed, the living space at the base of the lighthouse. It was humble, but clean and neat, and the fire brought warmth to the single room and color to the stone walls. His eyes fell on Adrian, who was still quiet, watching him intently.

“I’m fine,” said Trevor. He set his cup to the side and readjusted himself on the cot. He pushed some of the blankets to the side and turned to place his feet on the ground, but was again caught with a wave of disorientation. He felt Adrian place a steadying hand on his shoulder, and he gratefully supported it with one of his own as the room set itself square again. “How are you managing?”

Adrian scoffed quietly and smiled. “I’m fine.” A pause. “How well do you remember last night?”

Trevor was caught in a vision of torrential rain and screeching rats, underlined with bitter cold. “Better than I’d like to. How - how are Ami and the rest?” He again noticed the lighthouse keeper fidgeting nearby. “Shit - sorry - and you? Were you all able to get back here safe?”

She nodded, but seemed to hesitate before looking at Adrian for some kind of permission. Adrian turned to Trevor, and went on in the same cold tone he adopted earlier.

“Lyda here saved the two people they saw last night from the rats. She and Amalia brought them inside, but the damage had already been done.”

Confidence bolstered, the keeper jumped in. “Ami and I tried, we did everything we could but that poor woman was gone before the door was closed, eyes dead even with a heartbeat. I’d never seen what took the man though. The Devil’s own curse.” Lyda crossed herself and Adrian squeezed his eyes closed.

Adrian met Trevor’s eyes, his gaze flinty. “It’s a plague. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ll need to check my mother’s references, see if there’s anything in the library, but I’m doubtful. This is something new.”

The dark-haired man shifted his grip on the cup. “Where are the bodies?”

“We laid them resting a ways down the path.” Lyda gestured vaguely towards the sea. “But Master Tepes says they’ll need to be -” she chewed her lip a moment. “They’ll need to be burned.” She glanced nervously at the fire, but didn’t say anything else.

Adrian looked at the woman before them, a practical figure thrown into a mess she never wanted. Her faith was being challenged in strange ways. The keeper pulled the knit mantle around her shoulders a bit tighter, then straightened and dusted off her kirtle. “But maybe - maybe Amalia could help me build a pyre?” She looked at Adrian, hopeful. He nodded, and her eyes lit up. “Um, I’ll go check on the horses.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and hid a small smile to herself before bustling out the door.

The fire continued to crackle and smoke in the hearth, and the sickly morning sun began to crawl in through the windows. 

“We should probably leave soon,” Trevor intoned. Adrian kept his eyes on the flames, and the gold of his irises was flat and unreadable. The hunter decided to test his balance and stand, shuffling over to sit closer to vampire. “I feel about as healthy as I can be expected to, given the circumstances. I’ve managed to last this long, clearly some kind of supernatural force is on my side.”

Adrian huffed a laugh and leaned onto his companion. “We can only hope.”

Not long after, Lyda returned and they prepared to leave. Trevor struggled to lace his boots, swearing at his fingers when they refused to cooperate. Lyda rushed over to assist, swatting his hands away. Trevor looked over and noticed Adrian clenching his jaw.

“I … need some air.” The pale man turned quickly and left the room.

Lyda got up and smiled awkwardly. She had freckly skin and dimples, and Trevor couldn’t help but smile back. “Your friend his rather,” she paused, searching for the words, “intense, don’t you think?” Considering Adrian hadn’t been making any sort of effort to disguise his appearance, it sounded like she was looking for reassurance from a fellow human that she wasn’t in danger.

“I think he’s mostly just rattled from last night.”

The keeper barked a laugh loud enough to make Trevor jump, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. It’s just - well, I was pretty sure he’d killed you, you see, when you came up to the door. I mean, the storm didn’t help, and I’d just got that poor man back to resting, Amalia was tending to the woman then, and here comes a knock on my door, and he’s got blood all over his face, with you all limp and such, I just - sorry, I don’t mean to ramble. You just gave me a right fright, I wanted to make sure everything was alright, as far as he’s concerned.”

Trevor had no clear memories of the trip to the lighthouse, so he could only imagine the scene they must have caused. A thought occurred to him. “And you invited him inside?”

She looked sheepishly to the floor. “Well, he’d seemed so polite before, and he seemed awful upset at the time, I couldn’t just leave him in the rain.” 

Trevor shook his head. _Of course. Kind-hearted person risks life and limb to save a doomed ship, and gets two corpses, an invalid monster hunter, and a vampire at her door._

“You don’t need to worry. He may be cold and aloof, but he has the best of intentions. Also, as much as I appreciate this particular instance of charity, a word to the wise: next time a fanged creature covered in blood shows up at your home, don’t ask them in for tea. My job’s hard enough as it is.”

She laughed a little at this, but her face drew solemn all to soon. “I’m worried about the village.”

“I know.”

She glanced around, a bit half-heartedly, then continued, “Your man out there, he told me not to tell you, but I don’t see why. I figure you’d have found out soon enough either way.”

Trevor frowned.

“Andrei stopped by this morning as he headed toward your estate. The town is suffering. No deaths, God bless, but any food stores were ruined. The harvest was poor this year to begin with, but they ate half the grain and preserves, poisoned the rest with their filth. Not to mention, if those poor folks buried outside are anything to go by, the bites and scratches might be something to worry about.”

Against the gravity of their discussion, Trevor had to stifle a smile. _My man, my estate. If Adrian could hear this he would weep. _He knew his mind was trying to distract him from the fact he had no idea what he could do. Werewolf? Chimera? No problem. But you can’t exactly stab starvation to death.

“We’ll figure something out,” Trevor said, with as much confidence as he could muster, given his current situation. “I’m sure,” he took a deep breath. “I’m not sure, but I am going to honor my contract - I’ll do my part to protect you and the village.”

Lyda didn’t look convinced , but she smiled politely and nodded.

***

By the time they were back in the atrium of the castle, Trevor had slipped out of consciousness multiple times, each time accompanied by jerks of his limbs beyond his control. He tried to apologize at first, shouting over the wind, but Adrian brushed it away and pressed forward faster, carefully constricting Trevor’s body with his free arm, restraining his movements and keeping him seated.

Now, Adrian brushed away the helpful hands of Amalia and Mina, and shouldered much of Trevor’s weight as he guided him forward. Trevor had felt progressively more confused throughout the day, but this was particularly odd.

“We’re going the wrong way. Our room is - is - is “ His mouth continued to gape and clench for a moment before his legs melted beneath him. Adrian broke his fall, guiding him down and cradling his head. As soon as Trevor realized what was happening, it stopped. Adrian stood, and helped Trevor clamber back to standing.

Shaken, he turned to get a better look at Adrian, who stared straight ahead before he steeled himself and looked at Trevor. “You’re okay.” He reached into a pocket and retrieved a handkerchief, then carefully brought it to dab beneath Trevor’s nose, then his ear. The fabric came away a shocking red. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, half to himself.

He hid away the handkerchief and wrapped his arm behind Trevor’s back, bearing his weight.

Trevor was at a loss for words in a way he had never been before. Adrian’s reaction frightened him. Somehow, he felt like a child again, experiencing an unforeseen tragedy for the first time. “What - what just happened?”

Adrian shook his head and kept his eyes on the carpet in front of them. “You’re going to be okay.”

They exchanged no more words after that, and Adrian guided them both to the bright room on the ground floor where Trevor had lain when he first came to the castle, all those months ago. 

Something dark whispered in Trevor’s mind: _a room for the sick, the dying_.

***

The taste of blood lingered in Trevor’s mouth like silt settling in a riverbed. No matter how much water - or ale, to Adrian’s chagrin - he drank, the cloying iron lingered. A pile of napkins and kerchiefs were turning brown-red at the foot of Trevor’s bed, soaked from the near constant leakage from his nose and eyes.

The midday sun rose steadily higher and filled the chamber with a jarring brightness that stung his eyes. As much as his body begged him to draw closed the drapes and wait out his sentence in darkness, he had a feeling this might be the last chance he had to absorb the gold light.

Someone cleared their throat and interrupted his grim musings. Trever adjusted himself, wincing as the fine silk chafed against his skin like tree bark. He wasn’t surprised to see Adrian standing just beyond the door, tray of food and pitcher of water in hand. The master of the castle had dismissed the staff, both to give them and opportunity to regroup with their families, and, Trevor suspected, to keep his ward isolated. Trevor watched him take a deep breath before walking mechanically into the room.

Trevor refused the roast potato and onion - just the thought of eating made him want to vomit. At Adrian’s behest, he accepted a cup of water.

He took a careful sip and made eye contact with his caretaker.

“This must be some kind of perverse fantasy for you, huh?” As if to emphasize his point, he paused to cough blood into the bucket beside him and wipe the drips from his eyes and nose.

Adrian’s somewhat manic laughter took him by surprise. “This is an erotic nightmare, at _best_.”

Trevor grinned, but Adrian’s face soon fell. They both could see the writing on the wall. Judging by how quickly things had gone south for the other man at the lighthouse, and how Trevor’s symptoms were progressing, Atropos was sharpening her shears as they spoke. The tenuous thread of the Belmont’s life had reached its full length.

Their attempts at conversation felt empty and awkward. Trevor had begun counting his breaths out of some morbid fascination, Adrian absently rearranging the food on his plate, when the dhampir spoke again.

“I need to speak to my father. I need to ask him about my - about choices he made, or didn’t make, I suppose.” He looked at Trevor, searching for something. “I think I may have the chance to prevent another tragedy.”

He picked at his fingernails, and suddenly he looked like a child. Young and small and alone in a world he didn’t understand yet, and that didn’t understand him. Adrian continued looking at Trevor with pleading eyes that begged for forgiveness, though what for, Trevor didn’t understand.

Trevor nodded. _It’s okay, I trust you._

***

Unfortunately, a chat with the Lord of Darkness himself required some very vampire-specific technology, and at the moment, Adrian was lacking the resources necessary to activate whatever black magic allowed him to communicate through indeterminate space. He’d been shaky and sharp-edged all day.

In his semi-delirious state, Trevor offered a vein to his lover, who, unsurprisingly, vehemently rejected the suggestion.

“Why not? I clearly have some to spare.”

“You’re not funny.” Adrian was briskly pacing across the room, face contorted in thought and concern.

“I’m not trying to be. You need to talk to your father,” _Fucking Dracula, by the way,_ “about something you’ve chosen not to share with me, and you need blood to do it. It seems like a pretty simple transaction is in order.”

Adrian stopped moving to glare at him. “You’re _dy - _sick.” His face crumpled at his slip. “I can’t take anything from you.

Trevor tried to sigh, but fell into a brief coughing fit. “Is there another way you could contact him? Maybe the Speakers -”

“That’s not how this works, Trevor.” _Trevor, ooph. This is definitely my deathbed then._

“Is there someone else you can ask?”

“No. No, he’s the only person who can help right now.”

Mina, rosy-cheeked, brown-haired angel that she is, chose this moment to knock on the doorjamb. “I was just coming through for the linens. Is there anything, er, anything I can help with, Master Adrian?” 

Trevor raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly toward this new arrival. Adrian covered his face with his hand. _Subtle._

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything. I know you said we were free to leave, but Ami left this morning for the village, and I felt guilty leaving the both of you alone, especially considering last night.” Her apologetic visage was reassuringly flushed.

Adrian crossed his arms and Trevor raised his eyebrows again.

“Thank you, Mina. Your thoughtfulness is appreciated, as always.” Adrian sighed, then pushed on with a tone of grim determination. “As you can see, Belmont has fallen seriously ill. I may be able to help him, but to do that, I’ll need some assistance from you.”

This was how they found themselves in their current situation. Trevor was propped up on a shameful number of pillows on the bed along the windows. Mina was in one of the plush, claw-footed chairs near the foot of the bed, effortfully staying calm. And Adrian was sitting directly across from her, rummaging thoughtfully through his bag, pushing aside small jars and linen strips until he pulled out a small phleam, cutting edge sharp and waiting.

Trevor opted to break the tension in the space.

“I thought you said blood-letting was nonsense. You seem awfully prepared for someone who disagrees with _every actual doctor_.”

Adrian reached to the side and held the blade in the flame of a candle. “There are occasions where doing what the patient thinks will make them better improves their symptoms, believe it or not. The mind is as powerful an organ as the heart, at times. And leeches seemed a bit on the nose.”

Trevor rolled his eyes, and he could see Adrian holding back a smile.

Mina was smiling as well, but was clearly nervous, a perfectly reasonable reaction to whatever the hell this was.

Something about Adrian’s plea had resonated with her. Clearly, she could see that Trevor was sick with more than a fever, and perhaps that was why she had agreed so quickly. Trevor didn’t know whether she had asked that him be in the room or if Adrian had offered, but either way he hoped they both understood he would be useless if something went wrong.

Satisfied with whatever purpose heating the blade had served, Adrian talked through the specifics with Mina as the phleam cooled.

They settled on her right forearm, near the bend of her elbow. She removed her sleeve and set it aside, on the table with the candle. Adrian took a deep breath. For all Mina knew, this was a common occurrence, just beyond her purview. Trevor knew that Adrian was making nearly all of this up on the spot, and respected him all the more for it.

“Now, I’m going to make one cut, right here.” He held her arm loosely in one hand, spanning the distance between them, and pointed with the tool in his grip. “I’m only going to take about two cups worth, it should be over quickly.” He guided her arm so her left hand rested on his shoulder. “If you need me to stop, tap your hand, okay?”

Mina nodded, face set in focus. For some reason, they both glanced to Trevor for some kind of signal.

“Go on, don’t worry about me.” He coughed and wiped blood out of his eyes. “I’m in no state to go rile up an angry mob and turn you over them.” He smirked.

Adrian shook his head lightly and returned to Mina. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Trevor couldn’t see much from his vantage point, just the quick glint of the phleam as it drew across Mina’s skin, then Adrian setting the blade aside and leaning forward. Trevor thought it was obvious he was trying not to make any sudden movements, clearly trying to exhibit restraint, but he couldn’t blame Mina as she flinched away - first as his mouth pressed against the cut, and again when his grip tightened on instinct. But her hand remained steady on his shoulder, and they continued.

It was mesmerizing to watch. There was something almost poetic about this transfer of power from one person to another, a strange kind of intimacy that was difficult to define. He almost envied Mina as he regarded her face, watching her tension began to melt away. Though, if he was honest with himself, Trevor would much rather experience a real bite, purely for lustful reasons. He would be on his back, he thought, and Adrian would have him pinned down, hands up above his head, completely powerless. He imagined the hungry look in his eyes directed at Trevor and Trevor alone, the sole target of a primal desire...

Instead of following this train of thought, Trevor made the wise decision to focus on staying alive.

Adrian sat up and briskly pulled a bandage off the table beside them, and held it in place while he reached for a tastefully embroidered serviette and proceeded to brush away any evidence that may have lingered on his mouth. _Unbelievable._

Neither of them were speaking, which worried him a little, but thankfully he was able to interrupt their joint shock by reminding them he was actively dying.

Somewhat dazed, Adrian glanced over his shoulder at the reason for this trespass (for which he was entirely forgiven, the self-loathing asshole), and Trevor nodded, if only to assure himself that he still could. He must look utterly ghoulish, he thought, because whatever slight flush had returned to Adrian’s cheeks immediately fled. With urgency, he checked that Mina was holding up alright and finished bandaging her arm.

Adrian addressed the man on the bed as they stood. “As soon as I get Mina settled, I’ll start work contacting Father. I think - well, I won’t waste time with the specifics. I will be as fast as I possibly can.” Trevor was taken aback by the rapidity and energy of his speech, but grunted an affirmative.

As they were leaving, Mina turned back from the hall. “Master Belmont - Trevor - I’ll admit I’m at a loss for what has you in its claws right now, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, but if there’s anyone who can fight their way out of this, I’d be betting my coin on you.”

Trevor smiled. “That may be the blood loss talking, but thank you. I mean it.”

She nodded curtly then spun on her heels and exited down the hall. With softness behind his eyes, Adrian spoke to Trevor.

“I’ll keep an eye on her. Just, keep that heart of yours beating, yes?”

“Anything for you, love.”

***

Adrian returned in less than an hour, his eyes puffy and reddened. Trevor wanted to comfort him, but he felt like his skin was being devoured by insects, and his mouth and nose kept seeping blood. He felt like rotting fruit, swollen and bursting, wasp-ridden and ready to collapse into mush.

He decided not to say anything.

“I couldn’t reach him.” Adrian was still standing at the doorway, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “The mirror wouldn’t - I don’t know, I should’ve …” He gestured at the empty air.

“It’s okay,” Trevor coughed. He turned and spit blood into the bucket beside him, and caught a glimpse of the dark purplish splotches rising up under the flesh of his arm. “Whatever you were looking for, it probably wouldn’t help at this point anyway.”

“It’s not okay!” Adrian screamed like a wounded animal. “It’s not fair! I can’t - I can’t lose you too, okay?” He seemed frozen at the doorway, as though he could pause time if he didn’t fully enter the room.

Trevor hadn’t had much time to get used to how quickly death was approaching. It was obvious he had less than a day, but it wasn’t moments away either. Based on how the morning had gone, it seemed like the pain would continue to escalate for a while longer, and at the very least, he would like to spend that time with the man he loved. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to let that time be spoiled by torturous self-doubt.

“You tried, you did -” Trevor clenched his jaw as a wave of fire rolled down the left side of his body. “You did everything you could, I know that. This is just what happens to us mere mortals.” He tried to smile, but he couldn’t really feel his face. Adrian didn’t react.

Slowly, he turned to close the door, setting the latch in place with meticulous precision. He walked to Trevor’s bed and sank to his knees, now eye level with the other man.

“What if I could turn you?”

Trevor’s whole brain felt underwater as he tried to process the question. Adrian continued, “I don’t know … I don’t even know if I can, but,” he stopped, and pushed the tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand. “And it’s a terrible thing to offer someone, even worse to offer to - fuck - to someone you love, and -” His breath caught in his throat and trapped his words. Adrian looked up Trevor and delicately clasped his feverish hands in his own.

“I need you to know that I will do everything I can to keep you safe, if you’ll allow me. And if you won’t, then I’ll be with you to the bitter end.”

The shafts of late afternoon sun were the loudest thing in the room for a while, then they were joined by Trevor’s labored breathing and the rattling of blood in his lungs. Adrian continued to look at their hands, Trevor at the ceiling.

“Do it.”

Adrian locked his eyes with Trevor. The Belmont summoned what all he had left and nodded. “Do it. Since I’ve met you, I’ve got a lot more to care about,” he wheezed, “And I’d like to keep doing that.” He gave a weak squeeze to the hand holding his.

Adrian nodded, unable to speak. He leaned forward, removing one hand to brace softly against Trevor’s shoulder, leaving the other to clasp Trevor’s burning palm. Trevor closed his eyes, too tired to keep them open, and felt Adrian’s head beside his own, and damp breath along his neck.

Once again in the soft dark, he squeezed Adrian’s hand. _I trust you. Do it._

To be completely honest, it didn’t hurt any more than his body falling apart from the inside. If anything, it was a relief to have some change in sensation to focus on. In the seconds … or minutes … hours maybe, that followed, the pain slithered to that single spot below his jaw, and the darkness bled darker.

His world collapsed to a single pinprick behind his eyelids, and the guardian presence at his side. 

When something cool and gentle brushed against his lips, Trevor latched on, and he didn’t let go.


	4. Thicker Than Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the wonderful response to the earlier chapters! I've really enjoyed writing this one, and hopefully it'll be fun to read!

Trevor watched the boar shuffle through the undergrowth. He could see its sides heaving after running this far, and the frost forming around its nose and mouth in the cold. He looked across the clearing and met eyes with Adrian. Even at this distance, in the dead of night, he could make out the predatory grin and sharp eyes looking back at him.

He’d killed boar before, he wasn’t sure why he was suddenly frozen. Adrian had insisted he leave all his weapons behind (he’d snuck a couple knives into his boot, but nobody needed to know that). Trevor glanced at Adrian again, who showed some concern and raised his eyebrows. _Are you ready?_

When Trevor apparently didn’t respond quickly enough, the pale figure stepped into crouch, set to run down their prey and make the killing blow.

_This one’s mine, asshole._

Trevor lurched toward the animal, startling it back into motion. A dark-haired blur knocked the beast to ground, the pair of them churning the snow into the forest mud. Without thinking, the Belmont lunged and tore into the boar’s throat, pulled back to spit out the lump of flesh in his mouth, then returned to the wound.

Finally, Trevor was able to tune out the frantic thinking leading up to this point, the unrelenting sensations of noise and light that set his nerves on edge. It was just _this_, this sensation of _good_, and _warm_, and _safe_ that flooded his mouth and ran up his nose and pooled under his fingernails.

He bit down again, into the soft fur under the animal’s jaw, and continued drinking with a renewed vigor. Something tapped his shoulder, and when he didn’t react, a lithe hand slid to interlace with his fingers, gripping the fur over the boar’s chest with him.

Trevor felt its heart fluttering to a stop and pushed back off the body. Sitting on his heels, he looked to Adrian with an uncanny innocence, all wide eyes and gore-smeared lips.

“Er, sorry. Want a turn?”

Adrian smiled and pulled their hands to his face, placing a gentle kiss on Trevor’s knuckles. “Bastard,” he whispered, then bent over to get his fill.

Trevor shuffled to sit in the snow and extended his legs before him. Again, he was shocked by how _not sore _he was. This was the second animal they’d run down tonight, and he felt like he could chase a dozen more and not get tired. He tried to wipe the blood off his face with his shirt sleeve, but only succeeded in smearing the mess around. Everything around them was stark red and white, and the hot blood melted the shallow snow to mix with the wet dirt. Even as things were now, Trevor was a bit disgusted.

Adrian pushed his legs apart sat down in front of him, stopping his thoughts short when he set his own legs on either side of Trevor’s hips. The dhampir crossed his arms and leaned forward onto his bent knees.

“Good job.”

“I’ve killed a boar before. And deer, and wolves, and ghouls, a handful of demons -”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Trevor considered the shredded carcass and frowned at how sloppy of a job he’d done. He’d need some practice, clearly.

Adrian must have misinterpreted his silence as he placed a warm hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “If you didn’t like it, that’s okay. I just thought it might help to get outside a bit, get used to how everything feels. I’d understand if you’d rather I just -”

Trevor pushed forward and slammed his mouth into a kiss, a novel mixture of tongue and lips and wet boar fur.

He pulled away after a second. “Sorry, I had to shut you up.”

Adrian smirked. “Vampirism has made you bold in new and exciting ways, it would seem.”

Trevor grinned, and he could feel his fangs pressing into his lower lip. It was unsettling, but he was distracted by just how wonderful everything else felt right now.

The moon lit Adrian’s hair to look like liquid silver, and glanced off the planes of his face. He was still thin, but not in the brittle way he once was. Since meeting with the village council, color had returned to his cheeks, softness to his jaw. It brought Trevor unspeakable joy to see life seeping into his love, and it gave him hope he would be able to manage himself.

“We should get the game back to the castle. You need some time to clean up before anyone sees you. As accommodating as our housestaff are, this,” he gestured to the sharp-toothed, blood-soaked Belmont in front of him, “may be a bit much.”

“And you’re not?”

“_I _am a very tidy eater, thank you.” A large crimson smear on the right side of his face said different.

In an instant, Trevor pushed himself up and knocked Adrian onto his back. Before the blond man had a moment to react, Trevor had licked a sloppy line up the side of his face. Adrian began giggling in a manner that was wholly undignified and frankly _adorable_, and pushed playfully at Trevor’s chest.

“Christ, you’re disgusting!” he shouted between bouts of laughter.

“You had blood on your face.” Trevor was failing miserably at keeping a straight face.

“You’re a maniac,” said Adrian, and immediately grabbed a fistful of Trevor’s shirt and pulled him down on top of himself, seeking retaliation.

***

To be fair, Trevor didn’t remember most of the first few days after waking up. His memory was mostly an incoherent blur of scenes and feelings. He felt like he had woken up hanging upside down surrounded by strangers speaking some unknown language.

He knew Adrian had asked him to stay in the room, but he wasn’t sure he would have wanted to leave anyway. Trevor overheard bits of conversation outside his door, scraps about the village and the rats, but none of it stuck.

He did remember when Adrian entered the chamber with a small bowl in his hands. In the enclosed space, the smell was thick and sent a shiver of static along Trevor’s shoulders and back.

“I think it’s time, yes?” Adrian could see Trevor grip tightly the edge of the mattress.

“Think?” His teeth felt heavy in his mouth, and he knew his speech slurred. He wished Adrian would say something about it, just for some normalcy.

“Well, I haven’t exactly done this before, have I? There aren’t books and charts about when things happen.” His voice was strained, but he hid it well.

Trevor narrowed his eyes.“Well, let’s go then.”

Adrian glanced up at him from where he had frozen, several feet away. Trevor sighed and licked his teeth. “These are going to take some getting used to, _fuck_.”

Adrian matched his fanged smile with one of his own and met him on the bed.

Adrian requested they move to their shared bedchamber; the large windows of the sickroom, even shrouded in drapes, made Adrian nervous. Trevor followed him up, thankful he didn’t have to make the request himself - their sheets were much softer. _Jesus, what have I become? Well, besides the obvious._

The fire was out and someone had boarded over the windows in the chamber, so it was blissfully dark when Trevor entered.

Adrian was standing behind him with a hand resting gently on the small of his back. “I’m sorry about the windows. There are plenty of rooms toward the interior of the castle that the light doesn’t reach. This is temporary. We’ll move everything as soon as you’re ready.” He smiled apologetically and led Trevor to the foot of the bed, where they sat.

Trevor frowned. “Why?” His voice still sounded like he was yelling, even when he whispered.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, or like you’re missing out on something.” He said it like it was obvious.

Trevor didn’t really know how to feel about that yet.

“Well, um, that’s very thoughtful, but - jeez - all my shit’s already in here, you know?”

Adrian nodded slowly, trying to parse this reaction.

“I realize things are different - I mean, thank you for the windows, not burning alive is great - but some things are still the same, right?” Trevor was shocked at how small his voice suddenly sounded.

“Of course. Of course some things are the same.” Adrian reached out as though to rest a hand on Trevor’s thigh, then pulled back. “But I want you to be comfortable with the things that are different.”

Trevor tested a smile. “For starters, I could definitely best you in a fight now.”

“As much as I’m loathe to admit it, you may be right.”

“Definitely feel like my posture has improved.”

“You’ve just been laying on your back for three days so you couldn’t slouch.”

“Really, three days? Damn.” Trevor reached to rub his jaw and was startled by the slightly denser than usual stubble he found there. He groaned.

“If I have to figure out how to shave without a mirror, I swear to god …”

Adrian chuckled, despite himself. “Oh, like you were doing such an excellent job before?”

“Well, I made an effort. Adrian gave him a skeptical look.

Trevor thought a moment, looked down at the claws that hung from his fingertips.

“Are my eyes, you know …” He gestured at his partner’s own dull gold irises. Adrian pursed his lips and looked down.

“What’s the right answer here?” Trevor didn’t respond. “As far as I’m concerned, they can be any color you’d like.”

Trevor sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’d just like to know what kind of reaction I should be expecting the next time I go see if Andrei needs any help with the horses.”

“They know about what happened - I’ve told them not to treat you any differently.”

“Adrian.”

“They’re as red as the blood in your veins, dear.”

“Well, shit.”

Adrian rushed in, “That’s not to say it might not change given some time. I’ve known plenty of vampires who could shift their eyes to their original human color once they had better control of their magic.”

“Magic?” Trevor scoffed. “You’re just trying to make me feel better, right?”

“Trevor, you’ve seen me manipulate fire and levitate - what did you think was happening?”

“I dunno, some sort of science thing, I guess. It didn’t seem like an important question, so I didn’t ask.” Trevor shrugged.

Adrian leaned into Trevor and set his head on the man’s shoulder. “You know I love you, right?”

“I’d certainly fucking hope so, it’s gonna be a long few hundred years if that’s not the case.”

***

Evidently, while Trevor was incapacitated, work had been done to get the village back on its feet. Between cleaning the sickroom and pacing outside Trevor’s door (Mina told him - Adrian would never admit it), the dhampir had been delivering instructions on how to dispose of the infected bodies and quarantine the sick. To everyone’s surprise, most of the townspeople went against common knowledge and listened. The isolated those who had fallen victim to the plague, and kept their faces and hands covered. Inky smoke had been rising off the village for days - the combination of green-wood fires and pyres for the dead. Something about the message delivered from the wraith in the castle was worth heeding.

Andrei knocked on door in front of them. The wood rattled on the hinges and Trevor heard shuffling as the resident approached the door and stopped. Andrei glanced at Trevor who nodded. It wasn’t that long after sunset, this was the best time they had. He knocked again.

An older woman opened the doored and glared silently. Andrei pulled down the scarf wrapped around his face and the woman smiled. The smoke had settled into the space between the roads and houses, and Trevor’s eyes and lungs had been burning since they passed the lighthouse.

“Andrei! What are you doing here this late?” She looked suspiciously at the tall figure by his side. “The Belmont?”

Trevor nodded. “Can you call a council meeting?” The covering over his face felt like a pretense. They must have assumed Trevor died, and considering the superstition and rumor in the town, it wouldn’t be much of a leap to conclude _vampire_. It was more exciting to speculate about that than consider the tragedy that surrounded them. But there was a world of difference between announcing this fact and letting the gossip stir.

The woman frowned and the creases in her face pulled deeper. “Why? The sick have died, the dead have burned. We listened to your ghost and the rats have fled.”

“They’ll come back.”

“Then we’ll kill them.”

“You saw what happened - their plague is brutal, and fast. A little blood on your hands or a nip at your heel is a death sentence.”

The woman considered this. Trevor held up his hands defensively.

“Fine. You can handle what’s left of the rats. But what about food? I saw the barrels burning in the fires by the gates. You can’t have much of a surplus.”

“If you’ll just let us in, Master Belmont will explain in detail his proposal.” Andrei’s whole body was tense, and Trevor could see the soot beginning to settle in the folds his clothing.

The woman raised her eyebrows slightly. “In that case, Andrei, please come in.” She pushed the door open further and gestured invitingly. Andrei scuttled inside and the woman looked to Trevor.

She repeated her gesture, but said nothing more. Trevor looked down at his feet, and the space to the threshold. “Well?”

Trevor pulled down the scarf and straightened his stance, allowing the yellow light from inside flicker across his ashen features in their entirety.

The woman smirked.

“Welcome in, Trevor.”

Back at the castle, Adrian was baffled. “And you’re telling me they _offered_ you blood?”

“I think they were intimidated. Besides, it was only a discussion.”

“So you threatened them?” He crossed his arms and shot Trevor a look over the table in the great hall.

“Of course not! I mean, not intentionally,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I brought Andrei with me! He was very charming, definitely helped my case.”

“Unbelievable.”

It was cunningly simple: Adrian and Trevor would continue their adopted guardianship of the village, with redoubled effort. Trevor had experience making basic repairs and traps; with invitation, he would make their homes rat-proof. The initial wave destroyed most of livestock and large amounts of stockpiled grain. Under duress from Adrian, they agreed to burn what all the rodents had contaminated with their waste. The plague rats ate each other too, of course, so they dripped poison blood onto nearly everything they touched. They offered to donate as much flour, grain, and preserves as the castle had to offer. Game was sparse, but in addition to eradicating the pests, the pair of them would bring the village as much meat as the butcher could store.

Somewhere in the meeting, someone brought up the issue of payment. Trevor was typically paid in free ales and lunches, but considering the extenuating circumstances, that seemed inappropriate. Lyda was the one who mentioned blood (Ami must have let something slip; they’d been spending a lot of time together recently). Trevor didn’t agree, but he didn’t voice any disapproval, either. The discussion went on, and the council agreed - and invited Adrian to their next meeting.

***

Hauling the boar (and fallow deer) back over the mountain ridge wasn’t particularly physically taxing, but it was just as awkward as any of the more traditional hunts he remembered. He offered to carry the heavier boar, leaving Adrian the deer, because he was a _gentleman_. The hunter regretted this choice as soon they started moving and he had to navigate jostling bristles and tusks.

At the crest, Trevor paused to look down over the remaining forest at the castle in the lea. No lights glowed in the windows and the spires poked at the sky, just now softening to a dark indigo. It was strange to consider how much had changed since he last stood and regarded this view. The air was still, so the only sound was the clicking as small branches knocked against each other and leaves blew over ice.

Adrian came up behind him and spoke softly in his ear. “What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m not sure I want to go back to the castle yet.”

Adrian hummed and shouldered the boar to the ground so he could better reach his arms around Trevor’s waist. As Trevor relaxed into the embrace, he spotted a flash of light brown fur dart between the trees far off in the distance.

“Did you see that?”

“What?”

“There was a rabbit, two peaks over.” He could all but feel Adrian roll his eyes._ I think I get why he likes this game._

“You’re imagining things,” Adrian mumbled.

“Is that jealousy I detect?” Trevor smirked. Adrian raised an eyebrow. “What about this - whoever catches it gets to bathe first.”

“We could just bathe at the same time.”

“Those sound like the words of a man who knows he’ll lose.” Trevor glanced over to where he had initially seen the animal. He could feel his senses sharpen in anticipation. He flexed his hands.

Adrian let his hands trail over Trevor’s stomach and chest as he stepped back. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, Adrian’s claws traced warm paths that made Trevor shiver.

“If something drags away our catch because of this, I’m blaming you.” He nipped at Trevor’s ear.

“Well then, you’d better not slow me down.” With a wicked grin the Belmont gave chase, and let himself be flooded with a guileless exhilaration.

“To what we’ve lost - and that which we have gained.”

The hall murmured in concurrence and sipped their drinks. 

Trevor stood behind the seated Adrian and looked out over the bustling feast they were hosting. Trevor didn’t realize until now just how much he had missed other people. Not necessarily friends and family, but just chatter and movement and people being alive. The past month, give or take, he’d spent countless hours in the village, but always in the dead of night. He’d attended a few council gatherings, but it was easier to meet during the day, and frankly they seemed to prefer Adrian’s flavor of diplomacy to his anyway.

Now, dressed in one of his better tunics and clean shaven - _thank you Andrei_ \- he surveyed what they’d been saving, a least a sampling of it. A group of brave villagers, thirty strong, accepted the invitation to dinner in the castle. Mina had done a wonderful job preparing what they’d caught earlier for the meal and preserving everything left for the townsfolk to take back.

Even the most skeptical among them seemed to be having a good time. The dark polished wood of the table was nearly impossible to see under the cascade of plates and cups and pitchers filled to the lip with every wine and ale imaginable. The towering windows and spires gave them something to marvel at, or condemn, or whatever they wanted, really. It was just exceedingly pleasant to celebrate one’s continued survival.

Trevor folded his arms over the back of Adrian’s chair. It wasn’t a throne per-se, but it was clearly the most imposing, most powerful seat in the room. He didn’t meet the public often, so he had to make it count.

“How’s the venison?”

Adrian kept his eyes on his plate and the long table before him. “I enjoyed it more this morning.” Trevor smirked. “How are you holding up?”

“I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Trevor noticed some small groups moving toward Adrian, curious. Most of them already knew Trevor, but the young, ethereal aristocrat was a real curiosity. “Looks like I have to share.” He kissed Adrian’s temple quickly enough that nobody saw, but Adrian was left blushing like a fool. It was perfect. Trevor headed toward the kitchen to help Amalia finish packing and sorting the supplies.

The energy of the room had begun to settle. Townsfolk broke up into smaller groups and more intimate conversations, meanwhile, those who needed to return home were chatting with Amalia and Andrei to gather rations for themselves and their families.

Trevor returned to the hall and noticed a young man in loose clothing approach Adrian. As he awkwardly made his way up to the head of the table, he listened to their exchange.

The man cleared his throat. “Um, Master Tepes?”

Adrian turned in his seat to face the newcomer. “Hello. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

The man nodded nervously, a bit too hard. “I’m Sergey. I’m the, uh, the, you know…” Trevor neared the end of the table and watched Adrian attempt to mask his confusion.

It dawned on Adrian just as the man blurted, “Blood. For you. My brother and I are - aw hell.” The man covered his face with both his hands.

Trevor approached from behind Adrian, facing the stranger. He chuckled. “It’s okay.” The man eyed Trevor, standing broad-shouldered behind the straight back of Adrian’s chair. “It’s weird.” Adrian shot him a side-eye.

“What Belmont means to say is that your uneasiness is to be expected. It can’t be comfortable to act as the first donor.” Adrian stood at a measured rate. “Would you like to move somewhere more private?”

They stepped into one of the small chambers a few paces out from the great hall. Trevor could still hear the hubbub of the crowd. Trevor attempted some small talk with Sergey and his older brother, Ivan. He wanted to keep his mind sharp, not think of these people as resources, but as human beings. In the isolation of the room, it was getting harder. 

The brothers chose to be first in line because they wanted the extra grain for their grandmother. They’d lost their mother to the plague, and felt they both owed something to the town’s remote guardianship. Trevor wished he listened to more, but the thrumming in his head and saliva pooling in his mouth made it difficult to concentrate.

The arrangement was very similar to when Adrian had fed off Mina. Besides the three tufted chairs in the room, a moderately sized table held cloth strips, a candle, a phleam, and the addition of a small array of silver daggers.

“I assure you, you’re in no danger,” Adrian said as he sat on the chair across from Sergey. “But if would make you feel safer, it’s your choice to arm yourself.” He offered a sympathetic smile.

Sergey declined, but Ivan, sitting a few feet away, nearer the door, opted to keep a blade in his hands. As Adrian cleaned the spot on Sergey’s arm where the cuts were to be made, Trevor excused himself to the hall.

He slid his back down the stone wall and sat. It felt like he was intruding on something private. Moreover, he was scared. Scared that maybe this act was going to be the thing that set him off, burned away all the Trevor-ness that made him a person. Obviously, Adrian could handle it. But he was _Adrian_. He was an exception to every rule. What’s to say that the feeling of human blood running into his mouth, directly from its source, wouldn’t make Trevor the monster he’d been trained to kill. 

Surprisingly soon, Sergey left the room. He smiled politely at Trevor and continued walking back to the great hall. The bandage on his arm was stark white against the beige of his clothing.

The door pulled back slightly to reveal Adrian smiling down at him, teeth dazzling in the light of the braziers. “Ready?” He extended a hand and helped Trevor up. As the walked into the room he whispered far more softly than Ivan could hear, “You can do this. If it gets too much, I’ll pull you off and take care of it.” He looked to Trevor’s eyes for understanding. He thought of the carnage of the boar this morning and steadied himself. He gave a shaky nod.

Trevor watched Adrian prepare the phleam and the skin at Ivan’s elbow. He could almost pretend he was somewhere else as he watched Adrian’s elegant fingers. Then came the time for Trevor to take a seat. Ivan took a deep breath and reached one hand to Trevor’s empty shoulder and extended the other arm forward. He felt anchored in place, even if it was an illusion. Ivan had his eyes closed, but Trevor couldn’t tear his stare away from the three needle-thin strokes Adrian drew against the skin.

Trevor held the arm -_ Ivan_ \- like a small bird, a precious thing. Red beads began to form along the line and melt together; Trevor was nearly panting. _It’s been too long, hasn’t it?_ _I can’t just - what if…_

_ Fuck it._

He fell forward onto the cuts like water. Trevor curled in on himself, pulling the source closer, tighter. He mouthed at the skin desperately, trying to pull more than the small incisions could provide. Ivan squirmed, but didn’t tap his hand.

His jawed ached. All of the pieces were finally clicking into place. This is was he needed, what he was _built for_. Trevor’s whole world dissolved into hot, and red, and good. He could taste the human’s heartbeat and _wanted it_. He felt the low growl building in his chest.

A hand placed itself over his shoulderblade.

“Trevor.”

The creature in his chest was silent for a moment. Trevor opened his eyes.

“It’s time to stop.” Trevor followed the voice to the handsome blond man standing near his side. He looked so dour, it made him sad. “Can you get up?”

“You’r’so beautiful. So … light.” As the words came tumbling out of Trevor’s mouth he became aware of the forearm still gripped in his lap, and the man it belonged to. Adrian quietly cleared his throat. Sobriety snuck up behind him and boxed his ears.

He dropped Ivan like he was on fire and found himself on the other side of the room. Adrian approached him slowly, hands outstretched. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.” He nodded and Trevor felt himself begin to nod along. “Nobody got hurt.”

Ivan grumbled unintelligibly to himself.

Adrian was standing just feet away. He handed Trevor a few clean strips of cloth and gestured at his own face. Understanding, Trevor quickly wiped the blood and drool off his face. Adrian walk back over to Ivan and sat in the chair. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed the water and cloth from the table. It seemed he planned to pretend nothing had just happened.

Trevor slowly walked to sit in the remaining seat, a little ways off from the other two. Ivan eyed him warily as Adrian wrapped his arm. Trevor sighed.

“Are you … okay?”

He only responded with an icy glare. Trevor caught a look at his arm - it was irritated and scratched, but no bites, no damage. Trevor would be pissed off too.

Trevor looked at his boots. “I can’t do much else other that apologize here. So I’m sorry. Thank you for not stabbing me, I know it can be hard sometimes.”

Ivan smirked. Adrian finished the bandage and stood. He eyed the blade in Ivan’s lap. “Keep the dagger, I think you’ve earned it.”

Ivan’s face broke into a genuine smile that stretched over his cracked and yellow teeth. “I appreciate it.” He laughed and stood, then turned to Trevor. “I’m calling dibs on him next time, “ he pointed to Adrian, who was looking at the floor and trying valiantly not to laugh. “I mean no offense, and I thank the both of you for your hospitality, but I’m not tryin’ to die of fright out here.” Trevor smiled politely, the image of a benevolent host.

Adrian showed him out and directed him back to the great hall and Sergey; it seemed like there were no hard feelings, but Trevor couldn’t prove that there hadn’t been some sneaky use of thrall and persuasion when he wasn’t looking.

Adrian returned quickly and shut the door to the small room behind himself, immediately dampening the overflow of noise from the hall. He put out the few candles in the room, surrounding them in a blanket of dark. Trevor was standing near the carved table, idly moving the strips of fabric. Adrian didn’t speak, simply strode over and wrapped him in a hug - one arm at his waist, the other at his back. It took Trevor a moment, but after a deep breath he folded his arms around the other man and returned the embrace.

The stormy sea had settled. They’d served their penance and confronted their wrongs. Now it was time to see what came next.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my weaknesses:  
1\. vampire bf bonding activities  
2\. dummy human seduces vampire  
3\. fire, i guess


End file.
